


Curiosity Killed the Coat

by Poetic_Poltergeist



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Ekons are just giant cats right?, Fluff, Kissing, Kitty Ekon Jonathan, M/M, Mild property destruction, One Shot, Purring, Sleepy Cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:47:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29816232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetic_Poltergeist/pseuds/Poetic_Poltergeist
Summary: Geoffrey McCullum made the mistake of leaving his coat in the claws of an ekon.
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum & Jonathan Reid, Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid, McReid - Relationship
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Curiosity Killed the Coat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BlueEyedArcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/gifts).



Somewhere between late in the night and early in the morning, when the creatures of the night tucked away before the sun rose, the good Doctor Reid climbed up Pembroke’s staircase. Limbs heavy with exhaustion after long shifts running across the hospital floor, he slipped into his room and crawled onto the cool cot tucked away into a safe little corner. As he nestled among the messy sheets he had not bothered to tidy, he found himself overwhelmed with the scent of smoke, gunpowder, blood, and whiskey, the familiar smell of his dear hunter. It was not the mere traces of Geoffrey he usually could smell after they had shared a bed, but something much more potent and intoxicating. 

Nuzzling his face into the thinned fabric of his bedsheets, he searched for the source. His nose brushed against something thick, heavy, and drenched in McCullum’s scent. He reached with his fingers, caressing and grabbing at what he now recognised as the hunter’s coat.

Pulling it towards himself, Jonathan could hear the shifting of the heavy contents hidden in the pockets. Weapons designed to kill his species held no power over him now, becoming just more belongings of Geoffrey to cuddle and hold. Oh, how he adored his dear hunter! The scent of Geoffrey McCullum overwhelmed and excited him.

Purrs rumble from deep within Reid’s chest as he ran his hands and face against the warm fabric, desperate to drown his sense in the feel and smell of the coat, but it was not nearly enough. Sleepily groaning with the exertion of moving his muscles enough to be sitting upright, his hands shed his jacket and tore off his white cotton shirt, far too tired to pay any mind to buttons. 

Now with his chest bare, Jonathan flopped on top of the warm coat, nuzzling the collar while squirmed to rub his chest against the fabric, rolling himself in the scent and sensation like it was catnip. In his exhausted haze, he could almost feel the Irishman’s calloused fingers brushing against the expanse of his back, tracing Jonathan’s spine with a heavy thumb while the ekon twisted beneath him. Breath thick and hot, tasting like coffee with the slightest hint of whiskey would tickle ears, whispering with a deep and seductive accent, singing sweet praises Reid’s half-asleep brain could only understand as comforting.

The texture felt heavenly against his skin as he bunched the coat in his hands, claws pricking into it ever so slightly as he worked his fingers against the fabric. Brief flashes of nights spent side by side filtering through his mind, the air drenched with blood and sweat, the echo of frenzied skals and murderous ekons ringing in their ears as they cut through them together.

When the streets were safe once more, they would retreat, Jonathan wrapping an arm around McCullum's shoulders as they slipped through the shadows and disappeared from the street below, only to reappear on the scaffolding framing his office window. For the first few nights, the hunter pushed away from the doctor’s hands when he approached with bandages. Eventually, his persistence wore McCullum down, understanding and trust grew between them. Just enough to allow Jonathan’s hands to grace his skin, even if only to tend to his wounds.

One night when the good doctor leaned over the hunter with antiseptic, he felt rough hands grab his chin and redirect him into an impulsive kiss. Geoffrey’s movement lacked their usual confidence, moving too quickly for second thoughts. 

Reid melted into the hunter’s arms, the warmth of living skin felt scalding against his cold flesh, and he needed more. Despite Geoffrey’s threatening exterior, his lips were silky and addictive. When Jonathan pressed further inward, the hunter’s teeth were dull, unlike his own deadly incisors. 

Perhaps it was the excitement or an instinctive need to feed with maw pressed against living flesh, but he was alarmingly aware when a sharp tooth scraped Geoffrey’s lip. Immediately Jonathan drew back, lest he cut his partner. His wariness only encouraged Geoffrey, blunt fingers brushing against the still-bleeding wound and bringing the blood to the vampire’s lips with a mischievous look in his eye. 

To the hunter’s dismay, the vampire did not bite. The pesky creature watched him with curious eyes but sat perfectly still, not even a hint of breath fluttering from his lungs. Geoffrey must have gone mad, for he pressed his fingers into Jonathan’s mouth.

The taste was intoxicating, subtle threads of humanity tugging at Jonathan’s heart. He suddenly came to life, desperate to lick and suck the blood off Geoffrey’s fingers. But soon there was none left, except of course the blood in his veins-

Inhuman movements, a primal burst forward to do what he did not know, knocking over both Geoffrey and the stool he sat upon with a screech and a crash. Reid’s feet tangled themselves and sent him downwards onto the Irishman’s chest. 

Once they regained their bearings, they awkwardly pulled apart, shame still heating McCullum’s cheeks when the doctor still insisted on seeing his wound cleaned and wrapped.

Neither man mentioned what had happened with words in the following nights, instead opting to drown in too-long glances and too-close touches, ignoring wanton thoughts of their damning kiss. The air around them was thick with want and tainted with shame. It was maddening. 

Reid, with his humble composure and suppressed nature, was the first to snap. Without intending to do so, he was suddenly pressing McCullum against an alley wall, lips meeting and desperate hands wandering until they were far too enthralled in each other to turn back. 

Drawing his kisses downward, Geoffrey moved his mouth against the doctor’s neck, a subtle mockery of his undead state. Loving whispers turned into ravishing refrains, shaking fingers pushing off coats and undoing belts until able to grace skin. Jonathan grasped and stroked the back of Geoffrey’s head, holding the hunter’s mouth against his throat. The rough and short texture of the military haircut tickled his palms, and what remained of his logical brain wondered if he had been enlisted once. 

—-

Shuddering at the dream of a memory, Jonathan began kneading the coat between his fingers, claws puncturing and tearing it. He brushed his lips against the coat, not unlike a kiss from his darling Geoffrey. 

The cot in the doctor’s office was already too small when he was alone, but they would make do; Jonathan climbing atop Geoffrey’s chest and resting his head on his to hear the thundering of his heart. Together, with limbs intertwined, they would doze off, far more comfortable knotted on a cot than alone in a larger bed.

An unconscious and comfortable rumbling emerged from within the doctor’s chest, the claws on his fingers stretching further, piercing and catching the fabric. The continual flexing of his hands splitting threads apart and tore into the fabric. On a normal night, when he was awake and aware, Jonathan would have never dared to damage his dear hunter’s weather-worn coat. 

The heavy fabric was nearly part of his skin, only seeming to shed it in the quiet moments when the two were alone. The coat was as Geoffrey McCullum as Geoffrey McCullum was; to destroy it was to destroy a part of the man. Not only was it part of his trademark look, but it was quite useful as well. It kept the hunter warm as he stalked in the cold London nights. Sewn into the fabric was an armoury, holding stakes, crossbow bolts, and countless little weapons for destroying leeches.

Unfortunately for the thick blue coat, exhaustion and fondness had taken hold of the ekon, and he paid no mind to his deadly claws and the damage they could do. 

However, one solace for McCullum’s coat, Jonathan was mere moments from dozing off. The comforting scent that surrounded him, the comfort of the fabric between his fingers, and the heavy exhaustion that had befallen him sunk him into the soft embrace of sleep. 

—-

McCullum reached the window of the doctor's room with some effort, climbing up the scaffolding with white knuckles on splintering wood. Fearing discovery the day earlier, when a nurse came knocking on the office door, he fled in a mad rush. Somehow, he managed to forget his heavy coat until he reached headquarters. 

He would have left it, but there was a chill in the air at night, and he needed an orichalcum covered blade he left in the pocket. Usually, he hung his coat by the window, so retrieving it during the day when Reid was fast asleep and preoccupied with dreaming about chasing rats like a stray cat should not have been a problem.

But no, nothing involving the leech doctor was ever easy. 

Pulling himself up to the window and slipping inside, he reached to grab for his coat only to discover it was not there.

“Shite,” he cussed. Where did his coat go? He doubted the doctor moved it; he never seemed bothered by its placement before. 

Painfully slowly, as to not wake the sleeping ekon, Geoffrey crept around the room. Every step on the wooden floor seemed to creak, and every creak risked awakening the sleeping beast. 

After circling the office once, Geoffrey was about to give up when he finally cast a glance over the doctor. 

“Damnit, Reid.” Jonathan appeared to have found the coat first and made a bed out of it. 

Inching towards the cot, Geoffrey examined the situation. Perhaps he could just grab the edge of his coat and pull it out from under Jonathan. 

Impetuous as ever, he did just that. As he pulled, the coat audibly tore as it was caught between Geoffrey’s hands and Jonathan’s claws. However, it did not tear entirely and retained enough strength to pull the decorous doctor off the bed and onto the floor.

At the thud of the doctor hitting the floor, McCullum winced, dropping the coat in his recoil. 

“Geoffrey?” a very heavy voice creaked from the floor. “What are you doing?” 

“Apparently dragging you to the floor,” Geoffrey replied dryly, watching as the sleepy vampire blinked at him wearily. Had the hunter not been entirely enthralled by the leech, he would have taken the opportunity to explore vampire behaviour during daylight hours. 

“Oh…” Jonathan replied, seeming only half understanding him. After a few moments of silence, in which he presumably was processing the words spoken to him, he said again, “Why?”

“Didn’t intend to, just trying to get my coat, and you came with it.” He gently nudged the vampire with the toe of his boot. 

“Your coat?” the doctor asked wearily, squinting at the hunter before turning his head to the side. “Oh. You left your coat here.”

“Yeah, I figured,” McCullum sighed, lifting his coat to examine the damage. While it indeed resembled his coat, it was ripped to ribbons. Dismayed, he tossed it onto the skeleton beside the cot. 

“It ripped,” Jonathan observed. “Did an ekon do that?”

“Yes, you did.”

“Pardon?” Reid seemed genuinely confused in his sleepy state, it was almost adorable. Not that Geoffrey would ever think a leech was adorable. 

“It’s fine I’ll just take your fancy one,” McCullum said with a mischievous smile. 

“No…” the prestigious man whined like an overgrown toddler, reaching out to grab onto Geoffrey’s legs. “Stay here!”

“Why?” The hunter began cursing himself for the fondness the doctor instilled in him.

Whatever Reid’s response was, it was incomprehensible as he buried his face into Geoffrey’s pant leg. 

“Yeah, sure. Let’s get you back in bed. Can you stand?” he asked, prying a leg from the ekon. He immediately regretted it as his pant leg and skin were snagged by beastly claws. 

“Mmnnn… Too tired. Body heavy,” Jonathan whined, lazily trying to grab the leg back. 

“Fine. Will you help me get you back in bed, or are you going to fight me?” He half considered just leaving him on the floor and leaving.

Instead of replying, Jonathan just slowly sat up and grabbed Geoffrey’s hand before dragging him along as he crawled back onto the cot. Even in a partially conscious state, the ekon retained a terrifying amount of strength, yanking McCullum down onto the cot with little effort.

“Jonathan, I have to go-“ Geoffrey protested, trying to stand up and finding himself trapped in the doctor’s arms. “Jonathan, release.”

After a few moments of complete stillness, Geoffrey concluded Jonathan had fallen asleep. Groaning, he attempted to find a comfortable place to lay on the lanky leech, figuring he would be stuck a while. It took some time spent fidgeting, but he eventually found comfort with his chest to Reid’s and his limbs splayed on either side of him. At least Jonathan’s cool skin made a fine pillow. 

Sleep was something Geoffrey had to learn to do almost on command as a boy. He never knew how much sleep he would get before waking up for patrol. In a few moments, he was already dozing off when he noticed that at some point, Jonathan’s chest began to rumble.

“Leeches sleep like the dead. How the hell are you purring if you’re asleep?” Geoffrey asked, craning his head to try to see Jonathan’s face.

“I’m not,” Jonathan replied softly.

“I hate you, you overgrown cat.”


End file.
